


gasoline

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1d, 80s, Angst, Bottomlouis, Love, M/M, Sad, Topharry, larry - Freeform, larrystylinson, onedirection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-06-27 17:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19795267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: everyone has a story to tell. whether it is good or bad.harry styles' favorite story started at school, actually in detention on a fateful and monotonous morning. the morning, to everyone's amazement, louis tomlinson decided to rebel himself.the morning the prodigy boy changed the problematic kid's life forever.





	1. ground zero

**Author's Note:**

> hello!
> 
> i've been thinking about this plot for a long time now and i even started writing it in portuguese but decided to post it in english. this is a small intro and even if it's in first person the other chapters are going to be in third person.
> 
> this is the second time i write something in english and no one proof read it yet, so if you see any mistakes please let me know!
> 
> hope y'all enjoy the book.

how could i forget about the day _he_ entered my life and changed everything? how could i forget the colorful striped socks sticking out from his old boots? i don't know how. and i don't want to.

_louis tomlinson._

it was the name of the boy who, in a few days, turned my life upside down and made me see the world from a different point of view. it was the name of the smartest boy in school. a _prodigy_ , like they liked to call him. it was also the name of the boy who i've fallen deeply in love.

he used to like blue eyeshadow, i remember. he also used to like to stick little plastic stars all over his body, yes, i remember.

i remember every single small detail about him. those memories will never ever leave my head. i'll keep them 'till the day i stop breathing.

i remember, louis, i remember.

first i smile, then i cry.

it happened in september 1987. we were in detention.

my name is harry styles and that's my story about how after _him_ nothing else felt the same. 


	2. blue eyeshadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the prodigy kid and the problem boy meet in detention.

_a tree in flower is naked in the fall. the beauty turns into ugliness, youth into old age and the error in virtue. nothing is always the same and nothing really exists. thus, appearances and emptiness exist simultaneously. (dalai lama)_

**1987.**

the beginning of the end began in an autumn morning.

since that fateful morning 'till the end of his days, harry styles never found out why he got up from bed that day. he would never find an explanation to why he went to school with a hangover and still feeling the effects from his last joint. no one would never understand exactly what happened in those few days of insanity. words would never be enough to describe what he felt, how he felt. even if many years have passed, his one night stands would always feel a little envied while hearing the man talk about him. seeing how his eyes were distant and tearful while talking about the best and the most destructive days of his life.

to begin with, harry hated wednesdays. with no reason at all. something about wednesdays used to make him want to die. maybe because it was his designited day to clean the bathroom. or maybe because his mother's boyfriend number two, the talkative benedict, always slept over on wednesdays. harry couldn't point the exact reason and, maybe, there wasn't a reason at all. he just hated it.

and that specific wednesday wasn't different.

harry brushed his shoulder-length chestnut hair, dressed his worn out denim jacket – which he teared the sleeves off –, hid his dark circles behind sunglasses and drinked milk right from the carton before leaving to school. the green-eyed boy greeted mrs. mills, his neighbor, with a nod even if he knew the woman completely hated him, and got into his black maverick that once belonged to his dad.

the long and pale arm was hanging from the rolled down window and his face careless as ever. harry observed – without much effort, must i say – the cheerleaders wearing their small shorts and high ponytails, they were commenting about harry when the lad parked his car in front of the school, in an almost theatrical way. harry's chest lit up with proud, everyone knew him – or about him, at least. everyone knew about the crazy shit he used to do. and – even secretly – everyone wanted to be a little like harry styles.

it was common to hear people whispering things like _'did you heard about what harry did last friday?' 'i heard harry was at that party'_. gossip was never about good things, of course. but harry was indeed proud of his fame. he collected detentions like golden medals hanging on the wall and no one ever understood why he hasn't been expelled yet.

that morning's detention was caused by his boldness to vandalize the school's teacher bathroom walls, everyone who had eyes could clearly read the words ' _mr. whitake is an asshole full of shit'_.

harry was already bored, turned out staring at the stained white wall wasn't really entertaining, not even annoying kitty – the detention supervisor – kept him busy.

"why don't you let me go home and you could tell them that i ran away, huh?" the tall boy asked leaning back on his chair and propping his right foot on the table.

the woman – she didn't appear to be more than thirty – looked at him from behind her squared glasses. she had dark red lipstick on making her plump lips look even more obscene. everyone at the school talked about kitty and her long visits to the principal's office.

"why don't you shut that mouth of yours, huh? can't you stay like-'' she interrupted herself and straightened her spine in the exact moment the classroom door opened. harry styles, more concerned about ignoring kitty, only raised his gaze when he heard the supervisor's sudden stern tone.

"what are you doing here mr. tomlinson? is there any message from the principal?" her voice carried a serious tone but harry could see her dark eyes shining with expectancy.

"no" the answer came from a low voice that harry could've mistaken to a girl.   
styles arched his eyebrows as he looked at the small figure standing on the doorframe. obviously the green-eyed boy knew who it was, i mean, who didn't?

it was louis tomlinson, the prodigy kid, the boy with the highest grates, teachers felt honored to teach that kid. he, without a doubt, was the school sweetheart, the shining star. harry bet that shitty school never had – and never would have – a better student than him.

now harry was surprised to see such a talent in that environment where only disturbed minds – him included – hung out.

"is this a joke?" kitty asked reading through the paper louis just gave her. the short boy just rolled his eyes and propped his hips slightly to the left.

"does it look like a joke to you?" asked impatiently, his voice carried a subtle sassy tone. "it has mr. whitake signature, so no. this is not a joke." harry felt his ears almost perking up like a dog hearing his owner come home. louis tomlinson being a _smart-ass_? louis tomlinson being a smart-ass to a _teacher_? this was news to him.

"what did the princess do?" the tall lad mocked throwing a mint gum inside his mouth, a smirk dancing on his incredible red lips.

the supervisor, still shocked, got up from her chair and adjusted the obscenely tight skirt on her round thighs.

"stay here, ok? i'm going to talk to char- principal whitake about this." and with that, kitty left the room leaving the prodigy and the problematic alone.

"c'mon tell me what you did" harry asked again, his left leg joining the other on the small wood table. his feet were covered by dirty blue converses and his jeans' rim were slightly ripped from being dragged on the floor.

louis gave him a tight smile sliding his short tanned fingers on the near table and soon enough he took a sit where kitty previously was. his messy brown hair fell on his forehead and temples carelessly but harry _knew_ the boy probably spent at least ten minutes brushing it, the shiny eyes were adorned by a bright blue eyeshadow that seemed to highlight the even bluer iris and his lips were as red as cherries on the spring. harry could see the red and white striped socks sticking out of shiny black leather boots from his sit. louis wore a pink tank top and skin tight jeans – which made his legs look absolutely sinful. seeing him dressed like that gave the impression that the boy was replaced or, like harry liked to think, the end was pretty near.

"i just started being myself." he shrugged brushing his fringe out of his eyes with his short delicate fingers, harry watched his actions in awe.

"can you please speak my language?" louis sighed and played with his fingers hidden behind the wood desk.

"mrs. keaton tried to press me, wanting to know why i didn't get an A on her last test." started drawing imaginary circles on the desk, ignoring harry's curious gaze. "she said something like: 'louis, what happened? i know you could answer the question with your eyes shut. come on louis, give me an answer' and, well, I gave her an answer. i told her to suck my ass."

louis shrugged and his face was emotionless, like he was talking about the weather.

"you fucking what?" harry got up so fast he almost tripped on his own long legs, basically running to a desk closer to louis. "you told the physics teacher to suck your ass in front of the whole class? are you fucking mental or did you have cocaine for breakfast?"

"the world is mental mr. styles" he muttered under his steady breath and finally looked up. "and i had toasts for breakfast, thank you for your concern. also can you please stop looking at me like i'm some kind of alien? you do shit like that everytime and that's super normal. actually sometimes people need to permit themselves to be free. why when it is about me everyone act like it's some first-page news?" huffed rolling his shiny blue eyes and crossed his arms, leaning back on his chair

"because it is!" harry almost screamed, laughing on the process. "c'mon people like me doing shit is pretty common. now, people like _you_? no. you're a nerd and nerds were made to follow the rules. and really are a pain in the ass, to be honest. they are destined to be boring for the rest of their lives."

louis stared at him intently, one eyebrow arched, like harry was dumb – not that he wasn't, kind of – and, for a brief moment, something shone on his already shining eyes, but as soon as it showed up, it was gone. at that time, harry thought he was seeing things. now he knew exactly what was that. _rage_.

"well, i'm tired of this bullshit. i'm tired of hearing those same things from people like you, i'm tired of people always expecting me to be the fucking best, i'm tired of my parents, i'm tired of my life." when tomlinson finished he was blushing and his eyes were narrowed. "i'm fucking sick of this shit!" he almost screamed his last sentence.

harry was shocked seeing the perfect boy losing his shit like that. but a spark of anger lit up inside his chest. he couldn't comprehend how a boy like louis, the one people constant looked up to, was complaining about his life. no, the blue-eyed boy was being selfish and harry's dismayed nature pushed him to speak his mind.

"are you fucking kidding me boy? what could be so bad in your life? wake up and don't find pancakes for the breakfast? not being able to have straight A on that easy subject? your daddy didn't have time to take you to the mall after school?" the curly lad got up from his seat, restless and mad. "the world isn't fucking perfect! i'm sorry if you're not ready to hear that, ok? but that's life and you don't know anything about it."

"no!"

louis got up too, but stayed behind the desk. talking in a loud tone, making his voice even more feminine. "you are the one who doesn't fucking know anything about the world and think you can walk around like you're some shit." pointed his short index finger to the boy's emotionless face. "you can't judge someone's life before you know exactly what is happening inside their house. i'm not the perfect boy you and everyone think i am. and, believe it or not, i know the world isn't a happy little place. and, i'll say it again, the only person in this room who doesn't know shit about the world is you!"

harry was ready to shout some words but he backed up when tears appeared in those ocean eyes. maybe he was wrong, but the boy was never good at dealing with people emotions, so he never found words to stop louis from crying.

the worst part was, in harry's insane brain, he still thought he was right, in some wicked way. it didn't get in his mind that louis could have real problems. the tomlinsons were the perfect family. louis was the prodigy kid, his future was brilliant even before it started. all he just said sounded like a joke.

when kitty came back – almost too many minutes later –, louis nor harry open their mouths to say a word.   
something had changed that wednesday. louis tomlinson, the boy harry never exchanged a word, looked at him in way no one ever did. the end really was near.

the gossip was in everyone's mouth. that day was marked on the school's calendar as the day the prodigy boy decided to rebel himself.

before the bell went off and the unusual day was over, styles dipped long fingers inside his jeans' pocket and touched the joint he had rolled up this morning. louis was sitting there rows to his left. _no_ , harry thought, _i'm not gonna do this._

but he did.

in an abrupt act of solidarity, that even himself didn't know he had, styles dragged his chair closer to the other boy. keeping his gaze locked on their supervisor, harry whispered something he didn't quite know at the time if was the right thing to do.

"now that you are a rebel little boy, want to smoke some weed after this shit is over?"

when louis' gaze met harry side, his eyes were big and alert and they looked out of place under the blue eyeshadow.

"i never smoked before." were the words that came from the thin cherry lips.

harry rolled his eyes, losing the little patient he had "well, there's a first time for everything. you're in or...?"

the school bell rang making the taller boy ears hurt and louis smile like the two of them never fought in the first place. at that time, harry would deny to everyone who asked but there and then was the first time he really _saw_ louis tomlinson. it was the first time he saw him in a different way. it was the first time he saw the beauty behind the boy that a little ago used to wear more fabric than a closet.

and, after what felt like an eternity, perky blue eyes finally answered him "i'm in."

the beginning of the end began in an autumn morning.


	3. playground of broken souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis and harry smoke weed and talk about stars and galaxies.

_don't be afraid of the unknown because even when they wander into chaos, planets are born stars (charles chaplin)_

harry never noticed the look people used to give him when he walked down the school hallways. usually he had his sunglasses on, lit up a cigarette and walked to his car ignoring everything and everyone. yet, when he left the detention room with louis by his side, harry felt like a truly rockstar, surrounded by curious and shocked people.

with side glance, the curly lady observed how louis walked with his head up. returning the looks that were directed to them, like he was challenging those people to say something, like he was waiting for someone to interrupt them and tell him to don't mess with people like harry. louis could see the horror and shock in everyone's gaze after seeing that bizarre combination.

harry satisfactorily smirked to holly daniels, who stopped her red lipstick midway to her heart-shaped lips, only to follow the two with her eyes like a dog follow a tray of meat. they were on the school spotlights and didn't take a genius to realize both of them were causing way more fuss than they initially thought.

"god, this is amazing!" louis exclaimed when they were closer to harry's car.

the one with the warm green eyes grinned proud of himself.

"you're a celebrity now."

louis rested his thin arms on the car's ceiling and looked around, fixing it on something behind his shoulders, harry followed his gaze and, for a moment, none of them said anything. there were some boys trying to look cool with their cigarettes behind their ears and rolled up sleeves, showing their muscles that could be compared to the size of a golf ball. the girls were acting like their favorite movie characters, trying to look confident, adult and independent. smiling to those same grey boys that wanted nothing more than a night of sex. that wanted nothing more than having fun. that only wanted to use those girls to tell the dirty details to their friends during boys' nights.

harry dodged his gaze back to louis who seemed to shine under the midday sunlight. his skin emitted a pallid glow even when he looked permanently sun kissed. it was like louis had a sad aura around him and, at that moment, he looked so vulnerable. under the blue eyeshadow, harry saw his eyes and, for a brief moment, he saw him like just a boy. without all that makeup, all that lack of clothes and recently acquired confidence, he looked like any other boy's any other normal boy.

honestly harry didn't know exactly why he invited the feathery-haired boy to share his _last_ joint. maybe, he thought, he wasn't that different from those boys he just saw. maybe he only had other intentions, which he hadn't figure out yet. but, somehow, he believed they were there.

"we could go to the lollipop, huh?" louis asked quickly turning back to harry and catching him staring.

"uh, sure." the taller boy stuttered. "no one goes there anyway."

"great." he answers opening the passenger's door and throwing himself on the leather seat.

•••

when harry was younger he loved to go to the lollipop. he still remembered how happy he used to be when his dad would come home from work and tell him to get ready because they were going to the beloved park.

now, facing the big rusty gate, all that structure that once was the stage for happy shiny moments looked like a toy cemetery. housing old and depressing attractions, the once bright colors were now melancholy faded into shades of sad hue. nowadays the amusement park turned into the place where the neighborhood kids used to go to do drugs, have sex and all type of things. the youngest were strictly forbidden to go anywhere near the park, after all you never knew what you could find behind the ugly gates.

"c'mon" louis took the lead.

the gate creaked open as he pushed it, like a agonizing wailing. the trail of stones that stretched itself winding was covered in gravel and trash. harry observed the old booths and the first attractions on the path, in his mind he could clearly see the, now broken and dusty, lights flashing and exciting virtually inviting the neighborhood kids to play.

the two boys walked further into the park and turned to the right when they reached a water fountain - without water. they walked a bit more until decide to stay on the carousel.

the circular and decrepit structure was solid enough for both of them sit inside, behind old and creepy plastic ponies. harry didn't waste time before pull his lighter and marijuana cigarette.

"i used to love this place" louis commented looking around, his voice sounding louder in the silence that surrounded them. "my parents used to bring me here every weekend and this carousel was my favorite attraction."

harry inhaled the intoxicating smoke and hold it for a few seconds before exhale to blend itself with the wind. then he passed the blunt to louis.

"i always came here with my dad" harry said looking straight forward without focusing in anything. "my mum never had the patience for this type of things."

at first, louis choked with the smoke but on the second inhale he managed to stay kind of stable. 

for a while, the boys were like that handing the joint to each other, drowned in their own memories. harry replayed in his head every walk, every laugh and even every cotton candy he ate there. he missed so much when he could look to the most boring objects and find beauty in them, all that innocence.

however, he drew his attention back to louis when the boy suddenly took a small plastic bag from his jeans' waistband. "what are you doing?" harry asked confused, looking from the bag to the blue-eyed boy.

"i like stars" he answered, dipping his finger inside the package, three small and shiny plastic stars sticked to his fingertip. "i like galaxies and... well, i can't reach them, right? so i bring the stars to me."

the taller lad frowned, not knowing if his senses were being affected by the weed or the short boy sitting by his side.

"are you mental or something like that?" louis grinned with kindness overflowing from his features, sticking the small stars on his arms, cheeks, shoulders and forehead.

"i already told you, mister styles, the world is mental." he took the boy's hands into his smaller ones and harry contained the urge to retract. yet, if tomlinson realized it, he proceed with what he was doing and sticked a single star to the back of the pale hand. "i know you probably think it is stupid, my parents tell me that all the time."

when louis let his hand go, he looked at the single blue star shining against his skin.

"why are you doing this?" dark green eyes back to louis' unique features.

"i like stars and..." he started again, but harry was quick to interrupt him.

"no. i'm not talking about the stars. i'm talking about everything. why are you doing this? do you want to throw you life away?"

louis stared at him, guilt and pain reflected on his eyes. both were intoxicated by the effects of the marijuana they just shared, but harry still was sober enough to capture every detail from his surroundings. the sky-blue eyes were suddenly teary, the starlets on his body now carried a sad glow.

"everything?" he inquired shooking his head in denial. "what is everything for you, harry? all my life i lived like someone i didn't want to be, i grew up with people telling me what i should do and i obeyed blindly. they told me to be the best, so i was. they told me there was only one way to live and i believed. but everyone has a limit, and i think i extrapolated mine. i'm tired. so fucking tired. if there's something i believe now, this something is that the world isn't worth it."

louis squeezed his eyes shut and i tear stained his sharp cheekbones, bringing a purple star down through the process. harry watched him in silence, feeling dizzy with the words he just heard. he knew if raining on galaxies was possible it would be as intense and deep as the boy's crystal clear tears. he also knew that, if he wanted, he could touch the stars. he just need to stretch his hand and touch louis' face, or arms, or legs.

but he couldn't move, he couldn't stop staring at the fragile boy and much less stop thinking that the world was indeed mental. louis tomlinson was the type of person the losers would look and aspire to be, he was the definition of exemplary. he just was. and for a long time harry believed in that picture people painted about the prodigy boy, not even imagining it was all that was: just a picture. only a image created for others benefit. just someone shiny on the outside and hollow inside, just like himself.

"i know we're not friends and it doesn't make any sense in tell you all those things" louis proceed, rubbing his hands harshly on his face, wiping off that odd mix of tears, starlets and makeup. "but i always noticed you, harry. and not in a bad way... i just saw in you someone who lived exactly like how i wanted to live."

the curly-haired boy shook his head in awe.

"you don't know what you're talking about" he stated sternely. "live like me? this is self-destructive, it kills you, little by little. you can... i don't know. you can graduate and attend to the best college in england! you can be whatever you want, but you don't need to destroy yourself for it."

louis smiled sadly at harry, then supported his small hands on the trouble boy's knees, leaning into him.

"there's nothing inside here to be destroyed" he whispered, blue eyes staring deeply into green ones. "who i was ceased to exist long ago. i just want someone to help me feel unique, like i never felt before."

eye in eye, starlets on the skin, empty inside.

harry felt momentarily warm because of how close their faces were, like he used to feel when he was just a kid and his dad called him to play basketball. he also could kiss the stars, all needed was to lean his body closer to the boy. he could be able to know how stars taste and how it feels to wrap it's skinny body.

"i'm going to help you" he whispered back, surprised at himself and his sudden interest.

at that time, of course, harry was just a young boy like many others. he was just a boy with a few pounds in his pocket and a backpack full of dreams. he was just another boy who believed he knew enough about the life and world.

harry styles was too innocent and would only find that out later. when he realized that empty parts don't complete each other.


	4. i want to kiss you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis doesn't want to be harry's boyfriend, but he wants to kiss him.

harry's bedroom walls were completely covered in posters of bands, movies, bikini models and men in their underwear. that place was his secret and disorganized hideout, no one was allowed to step inside without his supervision or authorization. and, believe me, he always knew when someone tried to disorganize his mess.

in one corner of the room, where once was a study desk, was a deposit of dirty glasses and empty bottles, a mountain of scrawled papers that now were sliding to the floor and disordered piles of his favorite vinyls.

on the other side of harry's room, in what you could consider an altar, there was a solitary picture of his dad. candles leftovers formed a semicircle around it and a single white camellia - that he stole from mrs. mills garden - layed in a glass filled with water.

it was saturday and in the two days that followed his _date_ in the lollipop with louis, they met. on thursday, harry took the boy to a party in an abandoned warehouse. louis was kind of out of himself because he got into a fight with his parents to let him go out and it resulted in him getting _really_ shitfaced for the first time. at four in the morning harry had to park his car in the middle of a desert street so the smaller boy could throw up all his insides. on friday, even complaining about how badly his head hurt, louis managed to take styles to one of his favorite places after they decided to skip school. it turned out the place was an abandoned garden on the neighborhood limits, which looked like a scenario from a horror movie, but at the same time it was beautiful enough for harry to feel welcomed.

in that garden, between bubbly laughs, louis told the tall boy how his parents were super mad at him and how he couldn't put in words how proud of himself he was.

harry couldn't help but notice the mischievous glow shining in his ocean-blue eyes as the boy told everything about that night in detail, and harry couldn't help but feel even more confused by the complex tangle he represented.

occasionally, in those moments neither of them said anything, louis just didn't seemed to be there. his eyes were distant and, when he opened his mouth to say something, his sentences were deep and thoughtful, always leading harry to think about everything that surrounded him.

now, carelessly stretched out on his bed, the curly-haired boy still caught himself thinking about louis. no matter how hard he tried, he just could not find a reasonable argument for everything the boy had been doing in the last days. since the morning tomlinson entered the detention room, harry knew something was wrong. in the garden, the blue-eyed kid told him the world wasn't fair and he agreed! looking across the room to his dad's picture he could understand.

it was three years ago. three years since the friendly cop knocked at his door late at night. he was being kind. even too kind. but harry knew there was something more in the way the man looked at him and his mom, and no kindness is able to disguise bad news. because, in one way or another, the news always come.

 _"the doctors did everything they could to save him but, unfortunately, it wasn't possible..."_ he said.

harry remembered how cold it was that night, he remembered how empty the streets were, in utter shock, he ran out of his house wearing a tank top and thin sweatpants. the words 'fight', 'bar' and 'stabbed' echoed like an odious and torturing mellody in his ears. his dad, the man in his happiest memories, was killed while trying to help a friend. harry indeed had to agree, the world was really not fair.

years later, his mom would turn into the type of person who couldn't live alone, who spent hours in a beauty salon, who had two different boyfriends a week. harry would turn into the problem boy tormenting his neighbors' lives, showing off weed around and having sex with different boys and girls in alleys.

if desmond styles was alive, he certainly wouldn't be proud of the path he family took.

still staring at one of the last remnants of what had once been his father's smile, harry didn't have to admit aloud how much he missed the man. you just needed to look at them to see that. the styles family was in ruins. and its decline had begun three years ago, when a friendly cop knocked at their door late at night.

•••

a week and a half later, when the gods had finally been in a good mood and sent the rainy days away, harry took louis for a ride through the town in his shiny black car. with the windows rolled down, they laughed while throwing empty beer cans on the streets. louis oftenly would stick his thin arms out of the window to show a pair of indecent fingers to people on the sidewalks. he looked different since the first time the boys were in that car together, but harry believed it's because he was finally getting used to his presence. louis wasn't like the other boys, he didn't need to make the slightly effort to people like him. it was something natural to him, that simply happened without his victims realize they were being captivated.

when the boys got tired of what they were doing, harry parked his car in the back of a broke supermarket. with the car seats reclined and cigarettes between the fingers, both of them watched in silence the few cars passing by the street in the distance. a satisfied dimpled smile started growing on the corner of his lips and, before he could find anything smart to say, louis threw his cigarette out of the window and turned his body to harry.

"can i ask you something?"

"you already asked."

he rolled his shiny blue eyes.

"how a person like you, with all this popularity, end up alone most of the time?"

"lately people haven't been worth my time" harry answered, staring at the suede car ceiling. "and you?"

louis nibbled the pad of his thumb, studying the other boy's features. that was one of the things he seemed to do a lot, tomlinson always looked like he was yearning to capture and comprehend every detail about everything around him. he was an uncontrollable lover of puzzles, and he found one in every person he knew.

"i have a friend" he finally answered. "we haven't met often, it's been two months since i saw them"

"are them from another city?" harry asked and louis shook his head. "so why does it take so long for you to meet?"

"he's a patient of a rehab clinic. he is in his sixties, but is an alcoholic. his name is bruce, a great person. my parents hate to take me to see him, that's why it takes so long."

harry looked at him with a frown and an expression of utter disbelief.

"your only friend is in rehab and is sixty years old?" he whistled, surprised. "wow! mister tomlinson, what else do i need to know about you? that you were a patient there too?"

louis smiled softly.

"you'll never know everything about me, harry styles. and, believe me, one day you'll want to discover all my secrets."

the tall kid remained silent, analysing the other one with caution. he remembered about the last private reunion at holly daniels house. she asked him in front of everyone the reason why he was hanging out with the 'nerd weirdo' and he answered the boy didn't have friends, and this motivated him to try and find out why. but now, seeing the yellow-striped socks coming out of louis' dusty boots, he wondered if that was the only reason why.

"harry?" he raised his eyes to the pretty face quickly. fearing that the boy had seen him in such a way it makes people uncomfortable when they are caught.

"yes?"

"can i ask you something?" he straightened up on his seat.

"it depends. what do you want? money? more cigarettes? steal from this fucked up supermarket?"

"i want you to kiss me."

the buzzing in the air became completely audible at that moment. harry thought he didn't listen quite right what the small boy just asked, so he just stared at him without saying a word, his mouth ajar.

"you want a kiss?" he finally asked, hiding a strand of his long chocolate hair behind his ear.

"a kiss." louis repeated, sliding from his seat and sitting on the boy's legs.

"are you fucking crazy?" harry stared at him incredulously.

"maybe, but we can discuss that later. now, are you going to kiss me or not?"

harry swallowed dry. he had kissed many boys before, got involved with different types of people, but had never been approached in such a way. also, he didn't even know if he wanted to kiss the beautiful boy. the beautiful boy on his lap, he was light as a feather and extremely attractive to any other person. he owned enviable features, but at the same time didn't look like a typical teen magazine model. he was pretty in an ethereal way, almost like he didn't belong in that place, in harry's car. he wasn't in the scale of people styles would like to kiss, because he felt like louis didn't deserve to be in anyone's scale. he was more.

but there was this something. there was this something in the way louis acted and behaved that astonished him. louis tomlinson was doing something to harry, messing with a part inside him that had long been locked up.

"i'm not the ideal type of guy for a boy like you".

louis held his square jaw between short fingers and harry noticed his eyes looked even bigger and shiny up close.

"i'm not asking you to be my boyfriend or friend with benefits. i just want a kiss, harry. a single kiss. if you want, no one needs to know this day ever happened. it can be our secret, and then, one day, you can tell the others you know something about me no one else knows."

"why do you talk like that?"

"does it make a difference?"

"no."

he smiled little, drawing invisible circles on the freshly shaved cheek. harry held the small face with caution, fearing any sudden move would be able to break him. he felt the soft texture of the boy's skin and the sweet scent of his feathery hair.

"you smell like strawberry bubblegum and smoke" harry remarked, breathing deeply and storing that scent in the back of his mind.

"is that bad?"

"no. definitely not" he stared at louis, seeing his own reflection on his big blue eyes. he also saw his earrings made of stars dangling and asked: "our secret?"

"our secret."

so he kissed him. plump lips on thin ones. a wet kiss tasting like beer, with a hint of nicotine and danger. this was an improbable junction of right and dubious. the audacious encounter of a small river with the open sea.

somewhere, inside harry, something new lit up. he wanted more, he wanted to reach the top of the mountain and feel the fresh air filling his lungs. that moment seemed the most solid thing he had in months. nothing would ever resemble what he felt at that moment, and specially to what he felt a few days later, when he met the hurricane named louis tomlinson for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this chapter is far from being a super good one. as you could see in the last paragraph, this book isn't far from its end. i imagine there's going to be like two more chapters or something. i don't want to prolong this story.
> 
> also, i hope y'all enjoyed this sugary moment, it was quite complicated to lead the chapter to the kiss. 
> 
> love yall


	5. goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you find any mistakes please let me know

it was a quiet afternoon, even the mayflies seemed to have taken a rest. the sky was gray and the few birds flying seemed slower than usual. 

in the styles’ house, lying on one of the sofas, harry was trying to discover sonny crockett’s charm was while watching miami vice. he thought it might be his eyes or maybe the way his sunglasses fit him. there wasn’t much to do that evening, so he made that boring momento in a particular game.

his mom was upstairs painting her nails and harry was feeling extremely grateful he didn’t have to deal with one of her boyfriends. locking himself in his room just to avoid them wasn’t the best idea. and the last thing harry needed was to feel like a stranger in his own house.

everything went as it should be, nothing looked out of place. harry had agreed to meet with zayn malik at night so they could smoke weed together, he d had already washed his car and trimmed the backyard grass. he gave a sassy reply to his neighbor and now he was just enjoying his moment of peace watching that mysterious detective who intrigued him so much. 

yes, _peace_ is the right word. and it was peaceful until his mom went down the stair, with his head covered in colored plastic hair rollers and wrapped in a pink towel. 

“this is something i’d rather not see” harry joked. she dismissed him with a hand gesture. 

“i don’t have time for your silliness. i just want you to go outside and tell that weird boy to go away.”

“weird boy?” harry asked, more to himself than to his mom. he jumped out of the sofa and runned to the window, getting caught off guard. “ _louis?_ ”

“oh, he’s your friend?” anne questioned, standing behind him. “tell him to come in, and warn the boy to knock next time and don’t stand on our doorway like a ghost.”

harry ran his finger through his hair and ran to the front door, ignoring his mom talking non-stop. louis was still there when the curly lad went out the door, standing there at the beginning of the stones path, exactly like his mom told him. harry was surprised to see the boy there, after all louis never said anything about going to his house.

louis walked up to him with his thin arms hanging inert on his sides. he was wearing shabby-black skinny jeans, a giant t-shirt with a grotesque saturn illustration and an even bigger flannel shirt, harry assumed belonged to someone way taller than the small boy.

“i didn’t know you were coming, why didn’t you tell me?” the tall boy asked, sitting down on one of the front steps. 

“i needed to do something important” louis answered, his voice was low and small.

his hair was messier than normal and, when he sat down next to harry, he couldn’t help but note how frigid he looked.

“everything’s okay? are you feeling sick?” louis shook his head, locking his hands between his knees. 

“i’m everything but okay, harry. i haven’t been okay for a long time now.”

“so, tell what’re you feeling. did you go to the doctor?”

“it isn’t something a doctor can help, it isn’t something anyone can help. i’m the only one who can fix it.” he looked up at harry, and the latter was surprised when he saw the mix of insanity and confusion on his eyes. louis never looked at him like that.

“what… what the hell are you talking about?” harry asked. “can you be clearer? i can’t understand a thing you’re saying right now.”

the boy’s soft features twisted in a weird way, as if those words hurt him. or as he felt some kind of pain. 

“i came here to tell you i can’t do this anymore, harry. we won’t see each other again” louis’ voice trembled, just like all of his small body. “i came here to say goodbye”

that last word, the one represented the end, hit him like a punch between harry’s eyes. for a moment, he thought louis would start laughing and tell him it was just a joke, but the boy didn’t do that. he just stood there, waiting for the weight of his words hit both of them.

“what do you mean say _goodbye_?” he asked, harry couldn’t believe the words he just heard. “is the problem your parents? are they pressing you to stop seeing me? is that so?” 

suddenly, blue eyes were tearful and his bottom lip shaked almost violently. without answering the other boy’s questions, he hold both sides of harry’s face and pulled him closer, joining their lips together harshly. styles wrapped the small boy with his arms, a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

when they parted the kiss, louis hid his face on the curly hair. his breath hot and heavy right on harry’s ear, and then he whispered: “i’m sorry.”

“louis…”

tomlinson pushed him back and their eyes met for half a second. in that moment it felt like the time was frozen, and the only thing harry could think of was how beautiful louis looked right now. with the grey lightning from the cloudy sky hitting his face gracefully and his eyelashes fluttering on the top of his pointy cheekbones. he was so pretty in an ethereal way, almost like he wasn’t even real. until that moment he hadn’t realized how much of himself that boy had already taken for himself; louis couldn’t imagine how he was all harry could think about, when they didn’t see each other harry felt like something on his day was missing. it was already a routine to imagine what the pretty boy was doing when they weren’t together, even to try to decipher him. 

before harry could say something beautiful or even kiss him again just to feel their his lips against soft ones, louis got up, jumped the steps they were seated and ran away. an envelope fled from his back pocket, but it didn’t hold him back. 

harry got up shortly after and tried to follow louis, but stopped on his track right in from of smith’s house, watching the boy’s silhouette become increasingly distant. watching, powerless and confused, tomlinson running away. styles was partly determined to meet the smaller boy at school on monday, to ask what might have been so wrong for him to leave like that.

without being able to do anything, or thinking not being able, he thought it was better to give him some time, without pressing him or anything like that. on his way back home, harry picked up the crumpled paper louis left behind and turned it, just to find a small and delicate handwriting on the corner of the envelope:

_to harry_


	6. all my heroes died

the days that followed the quick meeting on my front door were the most confusing days of my life. i can clearly remember, after reading louis’ letter, running to his house without even caring about the pyjamas i was wearing; i remember the asphalt burning my bare feet and i remember feeling like my soul was being pulled from my body when i saw a police car parking right in front of the beautiful garden in front of his house.

the neighbours gossiped about the scene, watching everything with caution, faking unbelief and wailing about the fact. their voices echoing in my head in a way almost scary. their words hit me diffusely, incoherently… only fragments of superficial and disconnected sentences.

a police officer walked out of the front door holding a clipboard against his side, i ran to him, hoping to hear an answer from him. or, what i really wanted, hoping he wouldn’t confirm what i imagined happened. “where is he?” my voice sounded distant and unfamiliar in my own ears. 

“where is who, kid?” the officer’s eyes scanned me from head to toe, his mouth twisting in disapproval. 

“the boy. the boy who lives here. his name is louis. where is he?” i gripped the front of his uniform in distress.

“hey, control yourself, lad.” he pushed my hands away from his clothes. “you know what? i don’t need to give you any information, move away. i need to isolate the area.”

but i didn’t move away. contrary to what he expected me to do, i walked around him and ran as fast as my legs allowed me to the house entrance. i slid through the hallway and stopped at the living room. 

all gazes lifted at me, but my eyes remained glued to the skinny figure stretched over the rug. he still wore the same clothes he had come to my house with, his feathery hair was sprawled across the carpet like the rest of his limbs. blood pooling around his head and near his right hand a revolver layed. 

his shiny blue eyes didn’t open with my arrival, his mouth didn’t tremble with a smile. his high-pitched voice didn’t call my name or said one of those things which made me wonder. i never had the chance to see the sassy glow inside his ocean eyes. 

after that, only the nothing. only the empty.

there wasn’t anything to do, he left before i could tell him how i felt. before i could ask, for the last time, to kiss and hug him. 

“what is this boy doing here?” i hear his dad’s voice, loud and imposing, staring at the cops. to look at troy was the same as look at him, their similarities were unquestionable. 

mrs. tomlinson was crying sitting on the sofa, her shoulders shaking violently and her whining bounced off each of the turquoise walls. 

i wanted to throw up.

“c’mon boy, get out of here!” the same officer as before, grabbed me by my shirt dragging me to the front door.

taking me away from louis, taking me away from what was left of him.

the headline ‘the prodigy boy’s suicide’ spread out as quickly as fire on gunpowder. 

i didn’t want to see anyone, and i deeply ignored my mom’s attempts to have any conversation with me. 

no, i couldn’t subject myself to listening to anyone trying to comfort me. they didn’t know him like i did, they didn’t see her true self. that louis was completely mine, and i didn’t intend to share him with anyone else. his words, his laughter, his kiss… no one would ever understand, no one ever would know _why_ , except me. 

from the secret pocket of one of my favorite jackets, i pulled the envelope that had fallen from his pocket on our last day together. the handwriting on the outside was delicate and there my name seemed the most beautiful in the world. i pulled out the letter from the envelope, full of emotions he never told me; full of truths he never said. 

those words, written in a big and hurried handwriting, were the personification of what louis tomlinson was inside. they were the materialization of what people had made of him.

i sat on my bed leaning back against the wall. i unfolded the paper and read again what he had written.

_“i don’t know how to start this, actually, i don’t know how people can do this. it’s kinda weird being able to be more open with a piece of paper than with ourselves, isn’t it? but i think this isn’t what truly matter right now, what i need you to know, before everything happen, are my motives._

_everything started about a year ago. my dad got a promotion on his job, he got a cool office, more money into his bank account and all those things futile and shallow grown ups are completely obsessed with. we had a nice life, you know? it wasn’t perfect, but on the weekends we could go out and eat pizza or just camp in the park. well, at least my parents seemed happy and i used to believe in that cheap ideology where families can be unbreakable for years and years. just like they show us on movies and soap operas…_

_ah, harry… i couldn’t be more wrong. first, my father’s love affairs. i could see how distress my mom would become while waiting for him for hours. from my bedroom i could hear them screaming and fighting, i could hear the whispers and notice the glares. the next morning, they would act like nothing happened, so as not to upset me. my dad would kiss my mom before leaving, kiss my forehead and the days passed by like that. later, when his infidelity became more serious and my mother became firmer, the aggressions began._

_it started with a slap. and then, there were two slaps. then came the kicks and the punches, the throwing objects and acts of savagery. i listened, harry. i always listened. the sleepless nights clinging to a pillow were the longest i can remember. i used to pray that it would end, i asked to god almost every night to get my life back to what it was._

_i started getting sick, having recurrent nightmares, my nervous system was almost collapsing. no one ever found out, but i was really, really bad in various school subjects. my dad, as a preserver of the good image, had his ways. my fame as the smart kid had to stay, we need to have that perfect family image. we need to be the family everyone wanted to have. but money wasn’t any remedy to fix me._

_do you remember when i told you my only friend was in a rehab clinic and you asked me if i went to the same clinic? well, i did. instead of trying to a more empathic and reasonable way to help me, my dad just dropped me off in this clinic to be taken care by who weren’t who they said they were. i can’t say those were the complete worst days of my life, because there was bruce. and he knew how to tell a joke._

_near the end of summer vacation i was back home. and, when i thought i would find support, i found accusations. people were blaming me for the fact that my mom was now living like a nervous wreck. they said, without caring if i was listening or not, that it was all a way to get my parents’ attention. can you believe it? in their minds, i went to that clinic because i wanted!_

_but all of these were necessary for me to find out that the real culprit almost never takes the blame. it’s much easier to point fingers to someone than take on your own mistakes. and in the days since my return to home, that is exactly what my parents did. they used me like a sponge, and because i had nowhere to expel all that shit, i absorbed it all to myself._

_one day before you and i met, i went to the cabinet where my mom uses to keep all her pills and look through all those bottles for some long minutes. there was my dad’s imported whiskey downstairs; it could be fast, no one would even notice. i’d only need to lock myself inside my room and wait for the effects of a merciless and purifying overdose._

_but i didn’t. and in the next day, there were you. i must’ve to admit that i wanted to kick your balls when you said i didn’t have anything to complain about. you, just like everyone else, were fooled by the big theatre my life is. everything always boiled down to appearances. and why? because they’re convincing! most people accept the truth imposed upon them OR the truth that is convenient to them; and the truth about me was completely staged._

_anyway, when we started spending more and more time together, i saw that everything i thought about you also wasn’t entirely truth. i saw that, behind that lad who walked down the hallways like a god, there was also a kind heart; that even when annoyed me, was able to make me forget all my problems, even when everything was to heavy for me to carry._

_harry, i’ll be eternally grateful for making me believe, at least for a moment, that things could get better. i liked you, i liked you a lot. i’m not sure if i loved you, maybe i was in love, but those feelings are completely unknown to me and i don’t have much details about it… but the biggest certain i always had was that i couldn’t drag you with me. my dad was planning intern me in that clinic again, and this time for good. he wanted me away from you, he wanted me to be who i was… but what he didn’t realized, was that i was already too fatigued._

_this morning, when i woke up, i heard something breaking. it was the sound of something good being lost forever, submerging in a sea of solitude from which it could never be rescued. i thought the sound came from the kitchen, from the next room or even from the neighbors’ house. but i realized the sound came from a very unlikely place, from a place i had long thought to be protected._

_it came from me. something had broken inside me and, at worst, i knew there was no way to fix it._

_we’re fragile like glass, and sensitive like paper. breaking a person means destroying them, there isn’t a glue that can make us whole again. there’s always a piece missing, we’re always incomplete._

_i wasn’t designed to withstand damage, my system is flawed and useless. i’m sorry i wasn’t strong enough to endure, but i tried. gosh, i swear i tried!_

_i’m sorry for dragging you to my problems, but all the best I could try comes down to you, harry._

_i’m sorry._

_from the bottom of my heart, i’m so sorry._

_but i can’t take it no more._

_it’s the end of the line for me._

_goodbye._

_with all my love,_

_louis._

••

the funeral happened three days later. i went to the graveyard, but i didn’t let anyone see me. i watched from distance the group of people wailing the lost of someone so young and promising. 

_“poor parents.”_ , they said. _“didn’t deserve such pain.”_

louis’ words really made sense. it was easier to accept what is convenient to us. none of those people could imagine that behind mr. and mrs. tomlinson cry, there was a much deeper and putrid story. no one seemed to be able to come to the conclusion that if louis had come where he did, it was their own fault.

i looked once more where his tombstone lay.

i turned around.

i left.


	7. gasoline

**nowadays**

_ the world wasn’t worthy of him. _

it was with this thought that i moved on. it was by believing in this cheap philosophy that i began to ignore the pity others felt about me and i took pity on _ them _ for never knowing him as i knew did.

louis was spectacular at his own way, and the whirlwind of things that had happened to him was responsible for making him blind to the point of not seeing it in himself. other people turned him into a wrong copy of himself; into someone that kept silent in front of their own downfall. 

i’d be the worst of the liars if i said that after him things stayed the same. because they didn’t, not even me.

louis transformed his own destiny and, consequently, those of the people around around him. shortly after, his parents got divorced, and i heard a rumor that ex-ms. tomlinson went all the way back to her parents house. now mr. tomlinson, who cares?

mr. whitake acted a little kinder towards me until the end of the school year, even kitty started acting a little gentler. but, anyway, i could see in her eyes she still hated me.

now, sitting at the most hidden table in one of my favorite bars, i observe the people walking around the place. there are young people, old people and couples in love. they drink, laugh and talk about subjects that rise on bar tables. 

for now, no one comes close my table, and i’m happy with that. this way i can travel back to the past, to the days i had him a touch away. on the back of my left hand there’s a lonely and small star tattoo, it is blue, just like his eyeshadow he wore in the first day i saw him enter the detention room door. 

it is funny how everything can suddenly turn upside down. it is weird how death can change people’s life. it simply is so curious. the person is gone, stop existing, and nothing stops. everything keeps going. the time, the wind and the hollow. these things never stop, and, in the end, i know it will be the same about me. 

i will die one day, and the world won’t stop. just like it didn’t stop for him. 

in the end, louis gave me only one certainty. 

_ we’re part of a machine. _

_ there’s flaws in our codes. _

_ we run on gasoline _ .

and when it runs out, it just ends.

there’s no after. just now.

when you reach the finish line there’s just the emptiness and nothing escapes from it.

not him.

not me.

not you.


End file.
